Finley Gallows
by CowardlyPotato
Summary: In an attempt to solve the inequality against dark creatures, Minister of Magic Hermione Granger creates a new law that makes school attendance mandatory for every magical person living in Great Britain. Unfortunately, she hadn't expected quite how difficult implementing such a law would be. Rated T for Dark Themes
1. Chapter 1

**Knockturn Alley**

Finn's room was small. It was wooden, made with a sort of dark wood which made the cramped space feel even smaller. It smelt damp. Finn was pretty sure the only thing keeping the old building in one piece was a brand of ancient magic. It was an old place, even if it wasn't a nice one.

It had a window about the size of Finn's head. The window itself was blurry, and no amount of wiping had allowed him to see through it; like it had been cursed to leave a permanent layer of grime. Finn thought that was a waste of a curse, if that were true. During the day it let in just enough light for Finn to see around his room, and during the night light would continue to shine through the window from the other buildings around.

His neighbours preferred the night.

Finn lay in his cot. The mattress was just under the width of his arm, and the springs dug into his back a little, but it was still an improvement to when his bed hadn't had a mattress at all. Mertrude, the owner of the _Haunted Hag Pub_ , had given it to him for his tenth birthday.

"For working so hard." She'd told him in her thick Knockturn accent. Her mouth split into a grin, and her golden tooth shined out at him. He would have been upset with her, for buying fancy things like golden teeth, but she only had five. He felt like she needed the extra.

His blanket was scratchy, but he liked it. A woollen green, and thick for the winter. It hadn't been snowing, but Finn was sure it was going to. Mertrude had cast a few warming charms into his room, but the building didn't take kindly to any sort of light charm cast within it. It was enough, though, to stop Finn's remaining toes from freezing off.

There was noise from outside his window, and noise coming from the pub. Night was always the busiest time in Knockturn Alley; the shouts and the screams grew louder, and often times Finn had found himself being lulled to sleep by them. But tonight he just stared up at the ceiling. The wooden floorboards creaked from something walking around upstairs. It might have been a werewolf, there'd been a stark increase in those sorts of clients as of late. It didn't worry Finn too much, since Mertrude had cut off a couple of animagi heads and stuck a few of them outside his door. She'd assured him that it scared the beasts off, and Finn had yet to be bitten, so he considered that proof enough. He still barricaded his door during the full moon.

He shivered through the warming charm, making sure to tuck all of his limbs into the blanket. He was ten, now, and his feet and hands would stick out of the end if he didn't curl into a ball. A loud scream from upstairs jerked him out of his sleepy stupor, and Finn grunted and rolled over. It was a woman, and from her screams and the blood dripping from the ceiling above Finn figured it would be a long night.

Finn reluctantly got out of bed, groaning and shivering as his feet touched the cold floor. He'd worn socks, but the chill still managed to find it's way through. He opened the stiff door of his bedroom, and it groaned as he did so. His room opened out onto a hallway. The guests rooms were upstairs, and Mertrude's room to the left of his. The door across was the kitchen, and Finn figured that would be the best place to find something to put the blood in.

It wasn't much of a kitchen. There was a black stove in one corner, and a couple of counters, leading out to the rest of the pub. The place was reasonably packed, as it usually was, and no one seemed to notice the boy walking into the kitchen in his pyjamas. Not that _The Haunted Hag_ was the sort of place that asked questions anyway. The oven wasn't burning, and Finn wasn't surprised. Mertrude didn't usually bother unless someone actually ordered a meal, and that was pretty rare. It was mostly for the two of them, really, and fire supplies had become harder to find after the recent bout of arson. He would have appreciated the warmth, though.

He reached for a pan in a pile next to the door. This one was as black as the stove, though more from burnt food and overuse than on purpose. Finn was a little worried that might contaminate the blood, but he took it all the same. Mertrude should just be glad he remembered to collect it at all.

He shuffled back into his room and put the pan above the patch of blood on the floor. He had to move the bowl around a few times, as whoever was above him clearly wasn't content on doing whatever they were doing in one place. Once a few drops had _drip, drip, dripped_ into the bowl, Finn stuck his finger in. Sucking his finger, the familiar taste of nickel bloomed in his mouth. _Not very helpful,_ he thought to himself, noticing a hint of something else. That was encouraging; muggle blood didn't go for all that much, considering how often they liked to breed. Whoever it was had magical heritage, but it wasn't distinct. Likely a dark creature as a grandparent; it tasted a little like harpy. Probably their grandmother, then. Finn just felt sorry for the poor man that had been pulled into creating _that_ sort of child.

Rare enough, though. It would go for a good price. Maybe the poor-man's version of harpy blood, but pickers couldn't be choosers, and the ministry had been cracking down on anything dark since the end of the war. Not that much could be done about his town. Finn remembered being delighted when one of the ministry members tried to shut down the antique shop down the road. He didn't have a head when he arrived, the vampire that owned the shop had insisted, and all his neighbours had gave statements of a similar nature. Eldron had even let him see the head afterwards. It's mouth was open in surprise and his eyes bugged out. Finn had put his finger inside it and giggled. He didn't giggle anymore, because he was a man now, but it was a fond memory nonetheless.

He sighed as the blood began to drip more slowly, and pulled the pan away from his ceiling. They hadn't bled all that much, whoever it was, and another sticky green substance was beginning to leak which Finn was pretty sure he should stay away from. He poured the mixture into a bottle and turned the cap, putting it lazily underneath his bed. It looked kind of weird, like it was some sort of thick red potion. Maybe he should claim it is; potions were always worth more than ingredients. Finn gave a large yawn, and realised he should probably head off to bed. Whatever the green stuff was, he could clean it up tomorrow.

"Wake up you lazy little brat!" He heard, and Finn jumped up in his bed. "It's five in the bloody afternoon and I've got to ope- what the bloody hell is coming from the ceiling?" She yelled, her four-pupil eyes widening in shock. Finn looked up, and saw that the goop had doubled in size since last night. "Well, you're cleaning that up and cleaning out front if you want any breakfast." Finn nodded, his stomach growling. Mertrude's words were usually empty whenever she threatened skipping meals, but Finn would rather not risk it.

Jumping out of bed he rushed past Mertrude into the kitchen. She yelled a little again, and Finn gave himself a moment to allow the warmth of the fire to overwhelm him. Before Mertrude could tell what he was doing, he picked up a dirty cloth from the sink and ran back past her. He wasn't really sure a dirty rag would be able to do all that much, but there weren't a lot of other cleaning supplies around.

He stood on his bed to get the stuff on the ceiling. It fell to the floor with a _splat_ , and Finn laughed at the weird noise. Curiously, he reached his finger forward to try some. Mertrude had said the stuff was the equivalent of ghost shit, but it smelt alright. Sticking it in his mouth he decided it didn't taste anything like shit. It tasted worse; like rotting fresh and howling souls. It was pretty horrid, and Finn decided that was the last time. He wasn't going to eat anymore.

He ate a little bit more, but he didn't like it.

He managed to get rid of the worst of the gunk. It stung his fingers a little, and they'd gone kind of red, but the only thing left was a wet stain and a couple of green blobs here and there. Happy enough, Finn went into the kitchen to start cleaning up the pub.

Mertrude's six arms were making dinner. One stirring a pot of porridge, another boiling a pot of tea, and another two washing up dirty glasses from last night. She was a hunched old woman, wrinkly and straight, straw-like grey hair, but that never got in the way of her doing anything.

"Grab me the rest of the glasses," she told him. He went into the pub and did so, searching to see if anything interesting had been left behind. He used his wand to levitate a couple of the chairs and tables out of the way, but he didn't trust the old thing with glass. His magic was still pretty unstable, anyway.

He gave Mertrude all the pint glasses he could find. He'd found a couple of other things too. There's been a necklace under one the tables, and an interesting sparkly stain in one of the booths.

"Pixie dust, maybe." Mertrude told him. "Either that or muggle glitter. Merlin knows they bring the weirdest types round here." Finn scraped what he could into another bottle, and handed the necklace to Mertrude. She cast a spell on it, and it let out a puff of smoke like it had been holding it's breath.

"Tracking charm," she told him, "probably valuable then. Give it to Eldron, he'll give us a decent price." Finn nodded, because he liked seeing the old vampire. He'd travelled the world in his youth, and sometimes he'd tell Finn the most interesting stories. "Right, eat up. I want you back here before opening hours." She placed a bowl of porridge in front of him, and Finn eagerly dug in.

It was cold outside, and Finn noticed the frost had bit between the gaps of the cobblestone. Not that that deterred anyone in Knockturn Alley from conducting their business; some specimens were better frozen, after all.

The streets were narrow, and Finn wove his way through the tight alleyways with ease. A woman offered him a hand, but Finn had to tell her he had no interest in one. Mertrude had a couple hanging up at home already. When another man offered him a heart he was more tempted, but it turned out the creature had only been a muggle. There were some things that a muggle heart could do, but certainly not for thirty galleons.

He reached Eldron's shop a few minutes later, and Finn realised he had a hole in his shoe when he stepped in a particularly cold puddle outside it. His socks were wet, and he tried to spell them a little drier, but the illegal wand struggled with light charms almost as much as the pub did. He really didn't want to lose any more toes.

"Want a new pair of socks, kid? On the house." A warm voice spoke to him, deep and heavily accented. Finn laughed and rolled his eyes, looking up at the man. He was large, and took up the whole doorway, his face directly opposed the gentleness of his voice. His eyebrows were sharp, and his fangs sharper, but Finn had seen enough monsters to not be shocked by sharp teeth. His skin was dark, for a vampire, but had a light sheen to it that made it obvious there wasn't any blood there. Plus, he wasn't breathing. That was always a dead giveaway. _Or an undead giveaway,_ Finn chuckled to himself.

"I need a new pair of shoes," Finn told him when Eldron stepped aside to let him through. His shop was crowded, like all of Knockturn Alley, and filled to the brim with bits and bobs. There was furniture and jewellery and some clothes scattered about the store. All cursed, in one way or another, but Finn supposed he wouldn't be selling them here if they weren't cursed. "Though I'll politely decline." He'd lost his toe trusting Eldron with something that was 'on the house'. He still felt it, sometimes, when he wiggled his feet. But his little toe was well and truly gone. He had managed to wiggle the toe out of the teeth they were caught in, though, and sold it for twenty galleons. He supposed it hadn't been a total loss.

Eldron let out a warm chuckle at that, the sort that a man who'd tricked a child into losing his toe probably shouldn't. But then, Finn supposed, he was probably also the sort of man that had killed children. Maybe even wizard children, and that gave Finn the shivers.

"So, what do you have for me today, kid?" Finn felt around in his pocket, and put the necklace on the table. It was blue, with a blood diamond in the centre, but the real price lay in the curse that was on it. Finn figured it wouldn't be too much, considering he could touch it without screaming, but that didn't mean it couldn't hide something more powerful. Eldron put on a little magnifying glass thing, attaching it to his eye, and examined it closely. Finn also thought, if it was worth a lot, he could probably skim a little off the top and buy some sweets.

And a new pair of shoes.

"Strangling curse," Finn's stomach dropped. Almost half of all cursed necklaces had strangling curses on them, "a decent one though. Impossible to take off. I'll give you," he paused, "9 sickles, 3 knuts." He told him. That wasn't too bad. It was a decent amount for a strangling necklace. It'd probably sell for a lot more with the right customer, it was very pretty, and wealthy people were into that sort of thing.

"11 sickles." He told him, because it would be embarrassing if he didn't haggle a little.

"9 sickles, 15 knuts. That's my final offer kid; not a lot of people looking for this sort of thing come through here." Finn supposed that was true, it's prettiness was really the only thing really going for it.

"Deal." He told him, as Eldron passed the money into his hand. He counted it out, because Mertrude had always told him to, and was pleased he wasn't any money short. "Glad to do business with you." He gave the man a smile, and put the money in the pouch in his trousers. It was a lot harder to pickpocket that way.

The next person he needed to visit was Martel. He wasn't a dealer or anything, but he was a wizard. From an old pureblood line, Mertrude had told him. Finn looked at the bedraggled man, and Finn found that pretty funny. At least he was born down here. He had an excuse. Most of the residents had turned to giving him any impure product they had lying around, because the man still had a large vault to his name, and it wasn't like he was spending the money on anything else.

Martel stood out in the open, shivering outside a siren lounge. There were a few girls there as well, but they stayed pretty clear of the man. He smelt pretty bad, so Finn didn't blame them.

"You got something?" Martel asked. He was always fidgety. His eyes darted about, as if he saw things that weren't really there. Mertrude had told him he'd been given _The Sight_. Apparently, he could see past, present, and future simultaneously. He'd thought that was pretty cool when he'd first learnt it, but then Mertrude said that it also meant he could see when he would die, when his family would die, and knew when the world was going to end. Finn supposed he'd be high all the time too, if he had to see that.

"Yup," Finn told him, handing him the vial of sparkly stuff. The man snatched it from him, shoving it into his tattered robes, and pulled out a coin purse.

"30 sickles," he told him, and Finn counted them out. He raised an eyebrow at the man, who snapped, "What?" Finn figured fighting the deranged man over the four missing sickles wasn't worth it.

"Nothing. Thanks. See you next time," he waved Martel goodbye, but the man didn't seem to notice, huddling himself into a ball and muttering to himself. Finn shrugged, until he noticed the man had peculiarly small feet.

Or, more importantly, peculiarly small shoes.

Without holes in them.

He tapped on the man's foot, who let out a yelp and a slew of curses, but otherwise didn't react. Finn figured he could probably take the shoes off then, and he'd be none the wiser. Casting a _Stupefy_ , or at least, some version of it, Finn managed to wiggle the tight shoes off his feet. The foot underneath was purple, and the toes black, and Finn realised he didn't have any socks. Figuring the man probably didn't need his feet as much as Finn did anyway, Finn took off his shoes and socks and put the man's old shoes on. Wiggling his nine toes he realised the shoes were a little too big, but he managed to tie them tight enough to keep them on his feet. He left the shoes with holes in by Martel, not even trying to fit them on. These barely fit already.

A little happier to have new shoes, even if they came from a dirty homeless wizard, Finn walked to the final place he had to stop off at before heading home.

The potions shop was near the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and Finn often made a conscious effort to not go that way. It was a richer area, if Knockturn Alley had richer areas, and noble wizards and Master vampires were everywhere. They held their noses in the air, as if the whole place disgusted them, which Finn found ironic because it didn't stop them coming. At least, he thought to himself, dark creatures _knew_ they were horrid, disgusting, scum; wizards seemed to want to be torturous animals whilst still keeping a façade of civility.

The potions shop was far better built than any in his area. There were tall, stone, Victorian walls with alcoves and patterns etched into them. The pillars were made of a glowing red marble that looked like blood moving through veins, and there were long black leather sofas. Finn wasn't even sure why a potions shop needed leather sofas, but there were a few wealthy looking people perched on them anyway. It was definitely very showy, and Finn felt out of place in his second-hand robes.

There was a lady talking to the potion master at the front of the shop. She was clearly noble and Finn was surprised her large skirt had even fit through the door.

" _Mandatory,_ Montague. How far do you think the ministry will go?" She sounded angry, waving her hands about as the potions master seemed mostly disinterested. "Do you know what _types_ of people this is going to bring in? First mudbloods, now this! My little Damian is going to Durmstrang, at least they know not to _waste_ education." The potion master let out a non-committal noise, and leant slightly to the side. At least he looked equally as disinterested in him as he did the lady.

"Can I do anything for you?" He asked, drawling out the words as if the whole conversation was a chore.

"I've got harpies blood." Finn got right to the point. He didn't want this to take longer than it had to. He took the blood out of his pocket and put it on the counter, trying to manoeuvre his way around the woman's skirts.

"Boys like _him_ , Montague. They'll be running around Hogwarts like rats." Her arms fluttered as she gestured to him, looking both disgusted and trying to smile as sweetly as possible. She leant down towards his face, and Finn noticed a spot behind her glamour. It was big and pussy, right in the middle of her chin, and Finn really wanted to pop it. "You don't want to go to Hogwarts, do you _sweetie_?" She asked, her teeth so white Finn had to squint. Finn didn't really have an answer, because he hadn't really thought of it before. "Of course not. What would you even _do_ with an education? Sell it to the highest gilly weed dealer." She giggled, as if she'd suggested something terribly funny.

"No I wouldn't." Finn said indignantly, "Gilly weed is for pussies." The lady gave a shocked gasp, and marched out of the shop, twisting and turning to leave through the front door. That was one mystery solved, Finn figured. She slammed the door shut, and the potions master jumped a little at the sound. Finn turned back to him. "So, how much?"

"You'll pay for that," the potions master said, glaring at him, "Normally I'd buy it for seventy, but I'm not giving you more than fifty. That woman is a pain, but she pays like a money fountain." Finn didn't mention that the blood was probably only worth five sickles at most, and tried to look suitably crestfallen.

"Sorry," he told him, trying to look as apologetic as possible. The man handed him the money, and Finn had to blink twice.

 _50 galleons._ 50 _bloody_ galleons! He could definitely afford to buy some new shoes.

Finn was on clean up duty when he got back from his shopping trip. He'd eventually decided to risk getting new shoes, and a couple sizzling newts, though he still claimed he stole them off a homeless man. They were second-hand, with a mild warming charm on them, and Finn had felt a lot better as he'd walked home. He'd even got a bit of extra money for selling Martel's old ones.

"As if Rory even needs to go to school," Finn was cleaning up tables next to a pair of werewolves. Usually they stayed in the forest, and didn't go anywhere near busy towns like these, but they'd been flocking recently. "What does he need to learn? How to tear children apart?" The two seemed to laugh loudly at this, and Finn realised that some prats had stuck some gum under the table. He reached for his wand, knowing this was going to take a while.

"That's not actually a bad idea," his friend chuckled, "we could always do with a bigger pack." The two laughed again, and Finn used two hands to scrape the gum off.

"But seriously, not all kids need to learn fancy magic," now that the gum had come off, Finn wasn't really sure what to do with it, so he shoved it in his pocket. It seemed like it wasn't very sticky, and he didn't want to walk to and from the bin all night. "Like this kid," Finn wasn't the only kid in the pub. One of the bonuses of living in a place with almost no laws meant that teenagers would come and get drunk until early hours of the morning. They'd also have most of their stuff stolen, but that was the trade-off. Still, Finn knew he was probably the only kid close by.

He raised his head, hitting it on the table, and then found his way out from beneath. Great. He had gum in his hair.

"Yeah?" He said, trying to pull it out. The werewolves were big and bulky, like most werewolves were, and their faces were covered in scars. He'd be afraid, if the man on the table next to them wasn't a living corpse. _Ugh_ , his brain was dropping into his drink.

"You don't need an education, do you kid? Who'd even pay for his supplies?" He said, and Finn realised he was more talking _about_ him than _to_ him. Which was fine, except now he had to get a wad of gum out of his hair. Maybe he should just shave his head, he wasn't trying to impress anyone anyway.

"The ministry is paying, apparently," the other werewolf said, as if that were the greatest mystery in the world, "I don't think they realise how many poor wizards there are around. Wizarding Britain isn't as developed as the muggle one." Finn decided he was at least going to cut the gum out, and tried to use his wand. The _Diffindo_ was terrible, and barely even let out a spark.

" _Ha!_ As if the snotty ministry would ever accept _that!_ There'd curse your tongue off!" The other man exclaimed. Finn noticed they had really long nails, more like claws really. That could probably work.

"Excuse me," he went towards them, still tugging at the gum, "could you cut this out for me?" He asked. The two werewolf men looked up at him, apparently forgetting he was there. They looked a bit confused for a moment, and he elaborated, "your claws look pretty sharp." He explained. One of the werewolves, the louder one, laughed as if he'd just said something pretty funny.

"Sure kid," he told him, cutting out the chuck of gum. Finn was sure he looked pretty stupid, but he was just thankful to have it out.

"Thanks." He said, sticking the now hairy gum into his pocket as well.

"Did you know about this, kid?" The werewolf that cut his hair said, and Finn shrugged. He'd been half paying attention, but politics never really interested him. They never really affected Knockturn Alley anyway. "They're making school _mandatory_." Finn wasn't sure what that meant, but tried to look surprised anyway.

"It means everyone has to go," the other werewolf explained, and Finn really did look shocked.

"They can't do that," Finn said worriedly. There was no way to earn money at school, he didn't think, and he needed money to _survive_ , "I'll starve!" He looked nervously between the werewolves, but they seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing. He supposed they _would_ like to gnaw away at a wizard corpse, the bastards. Finn's heart sped up, as he realised that the _stupid ministry_ was going to get him killed. And not in a nice way, either. He'd seen people starve, and it wasn't pretty.

"They feed you there, you idiot." The loud werewolf said, as if it were obvious, "Maybe they really do need to make school mandatory." Finn took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"So you can get jobs at school then?" Finn asked, and he realised he'd been shaking. He forced himself to calm down; he's getting anxious over nothing. Knockturn Alley was outside the law, anyway. He probably wouldn't even have to go.

"No. The food is free." The quieter werewolf said. Finn rolled his eyes at that. Nothing was ever free unless you stole it, and even then there was the possibility of the owner hunting you down. It didn't matter, anyway. The ministry probably didn't even know he existed, there was no way they could force him to go to school.

"Enjoy your drinks," Finn said, effectively finishing the conversation. The werewolves laughed as he got under the table to scrape off the rest of the gum. He really didn't understand what was so funny.

Mertrude had given him the night off for his eleventh birthday, as well as an extra pair of socks. It was nice, because now his feet felt really warm. He still decided to hang around in the pub that night anyway, not really sure where else to go, and chatted with a gang of teenage vampires who had decided to rebel against their master. They clearly weren't the sorts who spent much time in pubs though, because even Finn had managed to out-drink them. Maybe alcohol affected vampires differently?

However, this meant that Finn had a pretty severe headache the following afternoon. And when Mertrude woke him up at about four, he'd squinted into the light.

"Let me sleep." He told her, groaning. She rolled her eyes, but didn't curse him like she normally did when he refused to get up. Finn figured it might be because it was still technically his birthday, but she'd been pretty happy to give him a big bruise when she'd found out he'd gotten drunk. That might be the reason his face hurt, as well.

"Wake up. We need to talk." That was definitely alarming. Finn shot up, and regretted it immediately afterwards, holding onto his head and feeling as if he was going to vomit. Trying his best to hold it in, he continued to stand up, hoping Mertrude wouldn't be too mad if he was still in his pyjamas.

About half way into the pub he actually did vomit. Mertrude tutted, but didn't say anything else. Finn knew something must be very wrong, if she wasn't yelling at him to clean it up.

"Sorry," he said half-heartedly when Mertrude didn't respond anymore than that. She vanished the sick away, and Finn felt that on a normal day he'd argue at her for not doing that normally, but today she seemed very dour.

He sat on the table across from her, his head still held in his hands. She handed him a letter, but Finn couldn't read, so he passed it back. She probably couldn't read much of it either.

"It's from Hogwarts," she said. Finn could have guessed that, with the insignia looking similar to the robes of the kids that sometimes wonder around the nicer parts of the Alley. "I was told there would be a fine if you didn't turn up." Finn was still clutching his head, barely comprehending, but Mertrude wasn't the sort of woman that would let him get off the hook for the consequences of his own mistakes.

"How did they even know I was born?" He asked her. He was going to pass out at this rate, he was pretty sure. Mertrude shrugged, all six of her arms moving up and down.

"Your mum must have registered you at birth." She looked him up and down, and Finn felt distinctly uncomfortable, "most witches do that, you know." She didn't say it, but he knew what she meant. Most _pure_ witches went implied. He'd never seen himself as a pure wizard, and no one else had either. There were even a couple of _pure_ wizards round where he lived, though they were usually much older than him. But now she looked at him the same way she looked at a wizard client, like he didn't belong here. Which was hogwash, he was raised here as much as anyone else was.

"They're making everyone go, even werewolves." Finn told her, but her attitude didn't seem to change, "how much is it?" He asked. If it wasn't too much, maybe he could save up and pay the fine for her.

"100 galleons." She told him, and that hope was dashed against a rock. 100 galleons? _100 galleons?_ That was more money then Finn had seen in his whole life! Nobody had 100 galleons! Nobody except…"

"It's wizard prices." Finn said, "that makes sense." He could see now why she was looking at him differently. The fine for keeping a dark creature at home would probably be a tenth of the price of keeping a wizard. Finn squirmed in his seat.

If he went to school, became educated and high-class, would anyone ever talk to him again? Would he look down on boys like him, like everyone else did? Would Mertrude even want to keep hiring him, knowing that he could be getting a hundred times the salary? He didn't want to stop working here, he liked it. He liked all the weird people and their weird stories. But apparently that didn't matter now.

"Obviously, you're going. I can't even risk a fine of that much" She told him, and then her eyes narrowed even further, "and it should be clear I'm not buying you any school supplies. I'll give you the powder to floo to the station, but that's it." Finn knew that would be the case. He also knew neither he or she would be able to afford the supplies. He'd probably just go without them, and hope they had spares. If they didn't like it, it'd be their fault for forcing him to go anyway.

Finn looked around the place. It'd been his home the moment Mertrude had found him abandoned in the _Haunted Hag_ , and he honestly never thought he'd leave it. He liked it here, with all its problems. Maybe the patrons got a little too rowdy sometimes, and they found a dead body upstairs at least once a week, but this was Finn's _home_. He didn't even know if he'd be able to survive outside a place like this. He was perfectly suited to it. Perfectly adapted to live where most of wizarding Britain would be too afraid to.

"Will I be able to come back?" He asked Mertrude, trying his best to sound nonchalant. Mertrude said he was a man, and men didn't cry, but even so Finn still heard the crack in his voice as he asked her. She rolled her eyes at this,

"Of course you will. Ain't nobody else gonna work for the meagre wagers I'm giving you." Finn brightened at that, his stomach still twisting itself in knots. "You'll always have a job here. Even when you're a big smart wizard." She patted him gently on the shoulder, and Finn nodded. So that was it. All he had to do was bare seven years of pretentious prats, and then he could come back here again. Live the life he was always meant to. "Now, back to work you lazy drunkard. There's a stain in the carpet the size of my head!"

Finn was glad things were back to normal, and he went to fetch the scourers. Carpet stains were the worst.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Hogwarts Express**

Finn didn't really know what he was meant to bring to Hogwarts. He had a drawstring pouch for money, and everything else usually fitted in his pocket. Mertrude had been pretty upset she'd have to let him borrow her bag.

"I swear, if that gets even a single hole you're paying for a new one," she'd told him. The bag itself was already pretty tattered, but was holding together alright. It was probably going to break soon anyway, and she wanted an excuse to make him pay for it. Finn didn't know how he was going to, now he wasn't earning anymore, but thought it was probably better if he agreed with her.

He packed it full of the things he owned. His second set of clothes, his wand, and a couple of empty bottles. He wasn't really sure what he was going to do with them, but they were his all the same. He packed his blanket, scrunching it up into a ball and stuffing it in. It took up most of the bag, and he realised the pillows weren't going to fit. That wasn't too bad, he'd used old clothes as pillows before. He felt a little better when he realised he owned too much stuff to fit in Mertrude's bag, though. He was definitely going up in the world.

He gave one last look around his little room. It would be weird sleeping outside of it, he thought to himself. He couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been his room, and Finn really hoped whoever Mertrude rented it out to would look after it. There were little scratches in the woodwork from when he was younger, spelling out "F I N" in his best handwriting. And there was a little drawing underneath of him and Mertrude. Her head was exploding in the picture. Finn knew that because he drew it, but Mertrude had just complained about the scribbles and told him to do something more useful. Finn was really going to miss it here.

As a last precaution, he took one of the animagi heads from outside his door. It was a badger head, and Finn always found the warm black eyes comforting. He figured they probably had them at Hogwarts, but he didn't know if he could sleep without his favourite one protecting him. He wrapped it in the blanket. It made the blanket overflow from the bag a little bit, but Finn supposed he could probably just put the stuff on the floor as soon as he got there.

"Hurry up, you lazy bastard! I want to go back to bed!" Mertrude yelled from the front of the pub. Pretty sure he had everything, and taking an extra clove of garlic from the kitchen and shoving it into his pocket, he emerged in front of the floo.

"Why on bloody earth did they choose this early to pick you up anyway?" Mertrude moaned, motioning for him to go into the fireplace. "The sun is burning my eyes." The curtain's were closed, but Finn had to agree. He'd hardly slept four hours. Mertrude gave him a bit of a sad smile as he stepped into the fireplace, and he gave a start when she gave him a hug.

"Going to miss you kid." She told him, "place won't be the same without you." Finn wasn't really sure what to do, with six arms wrapped around him. Mertrude had wanted to go to the station with him, but the last time she'd gone to a mostly wizard populated place they'd tried to burn her alive, so it had been mutually decided that that wasn't a good idea. Finn felt pretty sad about it. He didn't want his first experience of Hogwarts to be without her.

"I'll miss you too," he told her. It was surprisingly honest, for the woman who managed to both keep him alive and make his life a misery. Picking up the powder, he threw it to the ground, loudly saying "platform nine and three quarters." And felt the familiar feeling of floo travel as he left the only home he'd ever known.

It was insanely light as Finn came out of the floo on the other side. Even during September, the sun shone brightly at almost eleven in the morning. Finn didn't think he'd ever been up at this time on purpose before, and he squinted to even make out the where anything was. A looming black shape hung in the background, and Finn assumed that was probably the train.

The place was busy, but not in the same way Knockturn was. There were parents and children, and hardly anyone selling body parts. There were people dressed in proper robes, and people dressed like muggles, and people dressed like a weird mixture between the two. Some of the girls even wore trousers! He spotted a few kids dressed normally, but there weren't many of them, and they all seemed a lot smaller than everyone else. The air was fresh and clean, and it burnt Finn's throat. He much preferred the fumes back home. Parents were hugging their children everywhere, and Finn didn't know why people thought it was okay to be so emotional in public. They were just encouraging people to kidnap their kids.

Those were the sorts of people that looked at home. Some people went as far as to draw their kids away. He'd wanted to use this is a pickpocketing opportunity, but he was pretty sure everyone here would be keeping far too much of an eye on him for him to get away with anything like that.

" _This_ is what I meant. Some children just aren't _meant_ to be educated. They're a risk to the other children!" He heard someone say, and Finn couldn't help but agree with her. He wondered why there weren't more kids like him, but figured they'd all managed to find some way around the law. Finn was pretty sure that if his mum hadn't been stupid enough to register him before abandoning him, he wouldn't have to be here either. He'd be back in the pub, where he belonged. Not here, where he clearly didn't.

Finn had seen pictures of trains before. In old fairy books Mertrude had kept from when her son was alive and let him borrow. He'd seen trains whizz pass the painted landscapes, following the wooden tracks they were bound to, but the real thing was totally different. It looked like a beast, long and angry, and Finn hadn't seen anything like it before. It even roared sometimes, with a deafening cry, smoke whirling from it's nose. Finn wondered if trains were related to dragons, and felt distinctly uncomfortable at the prospect of getting inside one.

But the other kids were piling in, and Finn didn't suppose he could turn back now. Mertrude would just throw him out on the street if he came back. She liked him, Finn was pretty sure, but didn't like him enough to pay a hundred galleons. The temptation was still there, though. He'd survived reasonably well when he was out in the streets, it'd be just like that. But all the time. Including the day, where the sun would blind him and he couldn't warm his fingers by the fire. He was pretty proud of himself for keeping all ten, but he knew he needed a fire to keep them that way.

Finn took a deep breath and took the plunge. Stepping onto the train, he felt a little like he had sold his life away. He didn't belong here, couldn't they see that? He didn't belong on a train. But the kids were piling in with him, and he didn't suppose he had a choice, so he continued forward. Signing away seven years to the ministry that had given him nothing in return.

It wasn't the people. Finn was used to people. He was used to fanning in between them to get where he wanted to go. Except, Finn wasn't sure where he wanted to go. It was the deep, lush, red carpets beneath his new boots. His new boots that looked like dirt in comparison to the rich, polished wood of the carriages. And even the familiar feeling of being surrounded by people was squashed as he realised that many of them were looking at _him_ , as if he was some horrible parasite.

Finn wasn't really sure what you were meant to do in a train, he just knew they took you places. He tried not to dwell on where exactly that place _was._ There were carriages where some of the children were sitting, but Finn assumed they were probably just for the rich kids who paid for them. Most of the children inside were clean, sat properly and talking to each other. Finn jerked when the train started to move, holding onto one of the carriage doors. Fortunately, the kids inside didn't notice him. They were too busy waving as the train left the station. Waving to their fancy little parents probably, Finn thought to himself. How much they must be crying, knowing their little darlings wouldn't be around anymore? His mum hadn't cared if he lived or died, and that was how it should be.

He walked further down the train, rocking a little as the train swayed from side to side. He focused on getting his footing, knowing how dangerous it was to trip in Knockturn Alley. And people were always trying to trip you. Or curse you. Or steal your organs. Sometimes all three.

And then Finn tripped. Over nothing, because the carpets in the train weren't like the jagged streets he was used to; bumpy cobblestones and other things left scattered on the ground. His face went launching for the ground, and Finn put his hands out, catching himself before he hit it and instantly turning himself around to stand up. It was best not to be down for too long.

There were a group laughing, and Finn realised what had happened. He patted himself down, to make sure he hadn't lost anything, but the laughing kids were dressed in high-society robes and the girls even wore jewels, so he guessed he was probably safe. Finn felt a little better, then, because he knew how this worked. He smiled cruelly, knowing the fancy pureblood kids would shudder at his yellowing teeth. Yes, he knew exactly how to handle this.

" _Aranea Oculis!_ " Finn called, pointing his wand at a boy that looked particularly purebred. High, aristocratic cheekbones and pointy chin turned down as the boy felt his eyes start to bleed. Spiders crawled out of his sockets. Finn had been on the receiving end of this curse, so he knew exactly how painful it was as the arachnids tore through the skin of your eyeball. He screamed, and the other kids seemed equally as mortified. Finn, suitably happy they'd leave him alone now, continued on his way.

And they did. The kids moved as if they were absolutely terrified, which was kind of weird. It was an easy curse, one he'd learnt when an undead wizard had chased him down because he wanted a new nose, but it was effective. And it wasn't permanent; it was easy enough to grow eyeballs back. Mertrude had shown him how when he'd come back with no eyes. Even a blind person could do it, and Finn figured the boy had enough money to just buy new eyes straight out, the lucky bastard. Finn wished he'd cast something more permanent, now.

"You're _crazy!_ " Yelled one of the girls, and Finn was pretty sure he wasn't. Finn had seen crazy, and he definitely wasn't it. "Fix it! Fix it right now!" Finn gave her a deadpan look, because a pureblood should definitely know that a wand made for curses is rubbish at healing. Maybe she was actually a mudblood, and she was trying to hide it? A couple of the other kids had started screaming and running away, and Finn thought they were definitely being overdramatic.

"D-drop. Drop you wand." A boy, dressed in the school uniform of red and gold, held his wand against Finn. He was shaking, and he looked like if Finn moved too fast he'd probably cry. Men didn't cry, Finn knew, so wasn't particularly impressed.

Finn thought about defending himself. He almost definitely would win in a duel with the terrified boy, no matter how much his fancy school had taught him. Dark magic could smell fear, and the boy reeked of it. He grinned again, and the boy took a step back, and Finn did the only thing he could think of.

He ran.

Because, when push came to shove, he knew no one was going to take his side.

Fortunately, the kids were pretty happy to move out of his way. Unfortunately, he was on a train, and he'd eventually run out of places to run to. As he was running, a big hand grabbed hold of him, and Finn found himself thrown into a carriage as the older boy ran past. He choked a little, and knew the force of it was probably going to leave a bruise. Nervously, Finn looked up at who his captors were.

Four eyes stared back at him. One, the boy who had probably grabbed him, was definitely a werewolf. He wasn't particularly big, but he was covered in enough scars for him to stand out anywhere. Plus, though he looked about Finn's age, he had enough body hair to be mistaken for a middle-aged man.

"Thank Merlin, those purebloods are nuts." He told them, giving a big grin. He might not understand wizards, but he knew how to talk to werewolves. The werewolf didn't look particularly happy to have him there, but Finn was just glad he was back in his world for once. The boy grunted, and sat back in his seat.

"Don't look too chuffed. Show us what's in your bag." A girl this time, offered her hand and made a grabbing motion. Undead, then, he realised, as the bone of her middle finger jutted out and the familiar smell of rotting caught his nostrils. His wand in his pocket, and his money in his trousers, he gave the bag over pretty easily. There wasn't much in there worth stealing.

"Leave him alone, Gracie. If you're going to steal, steal from the rich kids." Another undead guy said, this one a boy, with his arms crossed over his chest. Finn nodded enthusiastically, realising this got him out of being stolen from, but the girl still rummaged through his bag anyway.

"Badger head," she said, as it rolled onto the floor, "what were you planning on doing with that?" As it rolled near him he tried to catch it, but another girl grabbed it before he could. Her skin was slimy, and Finn wasn't really sure what type of thing she was, but he didn't feel like being in a fight against all four of them. None of them were particularly big, but neither was he.

"Uh, warding?" He said, because he didn't really want to tell them what it really was. Animagi heads sold for a lot more than animals. "I need it for a ritual," he told them. The girl tossed it back to him, and Finn caught it in his hands. It had a stasis charm on it, courtesy of Mertrude, so the slime just dripped off. The undead girl looked though the rest of the bag, raising a couple of eyebrows at the bottles. Finn shrugged, and she put them back in, and threw the bag at him.

"Well that was pathetic," she told him, sitting down next to the undead boy. Finn wasn't particularly fond of being the only guy on the floor, so he slowly stood up. He flinched as his back ached, the werewolf must have thrown him pretty hard, and gave it a stretch.

"I told you he wouldn't have anything," the other undead boy told her. "He doesn't exactly look like royalty.

"So, who are you guys?" He asked, because he figured he'd be in a lot of trouble if he left the carriage, and fully planned to spend the rest of the journey here.

"I'm Gracie," the undead girl said. Her black hair was pulled behind a head band, and her ear looked like it was about to fall off. Finn resisted the urge to yank it and shove the ear in his pocket; he wanted these people to like him. "And my brother Louie," Louie nodded, giving him a little wave, and then looked like he was going to go to sleep. Finn had known undead people could give birth, because he'd had it happen once in the pub. It was a lot easier than normal birth, because usually the baby could just be pulled out from the holes in their stomach. "We're twins." She told him, grabbing the nearly sleeping boy's arm and placing their faces together. They did sort of look alike, but Finn thought all undead guys look alike, so he just nodded.

"That's Oliver. He's a werewolf." Oliver grunted, and Finn figured he didn't talk much,. "There's more of them a few carriages over, but apparently they're from a different pack." Oliver gave another noise of acknowledgement, and scratched behind his ear.

"I'm Seren," the other girl said, holding out her hand. Finn figured if it was dangerous she wouldn't have offered, but he supposed he'd fallen for stupider tricks. He took it, but his hand slipped as soon as he tried to shake. She giggled, "I'm not really sure what I am." She told him, and Finn nodded. It had taken years for Mertrude to find out she was part Acromantula. Finn didn't know how, because he didn't know what else had that many arms and eight pupils, but he supposed there was probably a reason. "What's your name?" She asked, a lot more friendly than the Gracie girl. Finn decided to sit opposite her and next to Gracie, though, because his clothes were messy enough as it was.

"Finley Gallows," he told them. Not wanting to be the only one, he used Mertrude's cover. "I'm part Acromantula, but I don't really look like it." He rubbed the back of his neck, and Seren smiled at him sweetly. She was kind of pretty past all the slime.

"Thought so. You smell like spiders." Oliver said, though it took Finn a while to figure out what he was saying. He had a thick northern accent, but Finn was mostly just glad that he'd vouched for him. He didn't really know how they'd respond if they found out he was just a wizard, especially since they'd saved him.

"This new law is stupid!" Gracie exclaimed, "Me and Louie were quite happy at home until some Auror's turned up at our door saying we _had_ to go. No one even wants us here." There was a round of agreement.

"I thought it could be a good opportunity," Louie told his twin, "being able to improve yourself, you know. We might even be able to change things."

"Right. Because the ministry are going to hire _us._ " Gracie responded, and Louie shrugged. She huffed, leaning back into the seat. "And again, _nobody_ wants us here. Do you know how many people hexed us when we got on the train?" Gracie asked, and Finn assumed it was rhetorical. Seren nodded anyway, and some of the slime in her hair got onto his shoes. "Let's just say my ear was on properly when I first reached the station." She picked up her ear as if to reattach it, but it fell off as soon as she let go.

"Yeah, and someone took my baby hearts from me." Seren said sadly, and Finn looked over apologetically.

"Wizard or muggle?" He asked, and she looked even more sad.

"Wizard." And Finn almost felt the sting himself. Those things were worth a lot of money; not a lot of purebloods left their darlings out of their sight.

"If it makes you feel any better, I cursed one of them after they tripped me," He told her, and she smiled a little. "The spider-eye curse; he was actually screaming." The five of them laughed at that, because only babies screamed from the spider-eye curse.

There was a knock on the door and the whole carriage was startled.

"Want any snacks?" A woman called out. Finn kind of hoped if they stayed quiet they'd go away, but Gracie got up and slammed the door open. A lady stood on the other side of the door in a white uniform, her smile kind until she noticed who was behind the door.

"A-ah. Sorry to interrupt. Have a nice day ma'am." The woman carrying the cart said, startled. Her eyes were wide, and kept drawing down to Gracie's ear and the hole in her face. Even Finn knew that was rude.

"And who says I don't want snacks? What have you got?" Gracie said angrily, and the woman looked like she was about to pass out.

"Gracie, the food is like ten times as expensive here. You won't be able to afford it anyway." Louie told her. Finn had forgotten everything would be wizard prices here, and the twenty sickles he'd stuck in his pouch suddenly didn't feel worth protecting.

"Shut up! I want. That" He bone finger pointed to something, and the lady seemed to want to move the cart out of the way as some leftover dried blood splattered onto the packets. The hallway was narrow, though, and there was nowhere to go. "What is it?" She demanded.

"Ch-chocolate frog," The lady said, though she made no move to pick it up. "Twenty sickles."

Gracie let out a scoffing noise, and Finn's stomach dropped even further. All the money he'd taken for the whole term would only buy him a single chocolate here.

"Give it to me." Gracie said, and the woman gulped. "For free," Gracie waved her hand a little more, and her blood got on some of the other treats. There were even some baked items, and Finn knew there was no way the wizard kids would eat something with blood on it.

"Makes it taste even better," Seren said dreamily, following his gaze.

"I can't. They'll notice if I don't have enough money from the sales." Gracie made a move over to the pastries, and the woman shrieked. Picking up a handful of chocolate frogs, and a few other things, she threw them into the carriage. Not ashamed to scrounge for sweets, Finn made a grab to pick up as many as possible. Gracie walked back into the room proudly, and sat down with a huff, after sliding the carriage door closed.

"Pass me a chocolate frog." She said. Finn threw her one, after snatching it from Oliver. He gave Seren a box of something as well, because they kept slipping out of her hands. Happy with his collection, he sat back. "Twenty sickles for a bit of chocolate." Gracie muttered to herself, "bloody ridiculous."

"Told you," Louie said, and the carriage became quiet as the five of them scoffed their faces with expensive wizard chocolate.

Maybe Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Can I borrow your finger?" Gracie asked, her ear finally sewn back into place. It was a little wonky, but Finn wasn't going to say anything, "I didn't think to bring extra body parts." She told him.

"No. I need it." Finn told her. If he gave half the undead people the body parts they asked for, he wouldn't have anything left to give away.

"Just the top, _please_." Admittedly, most undead's didn't ask this nicely. It didn't change his mind, but he could appreciate it all the same. "It'll grow back." After losing his toe, Finn knew that was a lie.

"Why don't you ask Oliver for it?" He said, motioning to the boy next to the door. Oliver had fallen fast asleep after scoffing as much of the sweets as he could fit in his mouth. He probably wouldn't even notice if Gracie did it quickly.

"Because his fingers are hairy." Gracie said, matter-of-factly. "And you have girly fingers." She added, "so I deserve them more than you." Finn did have pretty spindly fingers. Maybe that's why they all fell for the Acromantula trick; they looked a bit like spider legs when he moved them.

"I do not. Find your own fingers." He had to defend his masculinity anyway.

They'd been on the train for a few hours now, and most of the carriage were asleep or half way there. Finn himself had been asleep, until Gracie awoke him. The cart lady hadn't bothered them again, though he'd heard her going past. The boy that had been chasing him earlier hadn't bothered to look either, which Finn was a little annoyed at. It would be five against one now.

Seeing the countryside was different than what he was used to. The guys in the carriage had closed the curtains, but sometimes Finn would risk it and peak through. It was way too light, and it blinded his eyes a little, but it was worth it to see actual animals in real life. He'd seen dead cows and sheep and things before, but it was totally different to seem them actually moving by themselves. Most of the time it was just green, though, and the sun made his eyes water, so he only looked every now and then.

The noises outside had gotten a lot louder. There were footsteps banging everywhere, and voices chattering. Oliver woke up, and so did Seren, but Louie stayed steadfast in his sleep. Finn would be impressed, but he'd definitely slept through worse.

The door slid open to a girl with blonde hair and freckles. She had a black uniform on and a shiny badge. Finn really wanted to take the badge, but he didn't see how he could without her noticing.

"Get your uniforms on! We're almost there," she exclaimed, her eyes closed through her smile. Her face dropped a little when she saw them, but Finn appreciated that she at least tried not to look too frightened. Her nose did scrunch up a little, though. "Oh. Hi." She said hesitantly. She didn't offer them her hand or anything, but she didn't shut the door on them. Finn could appreciate that. "Well, welcome to Hogwarts!" She finished again with way too much enthusiasm. She closed the door as she said it.

Finn didn't really know what the rule was if you didn't have your uniform yet. Gracie and Louie seemed to have black cloaks in their bags, and Seren was already wearing some version on the uniform. Oliver didn't seem to have anything, though, so Finn felt a little better.

"Bet she couldn't wait to get out of here," Gracie said, her smile nasty. Finn waited until the train had come to a complete stop, before standing up and leaving with the rest of them. He wasn't sure he wanted to be outside with the rest of the school again, but he felt a lot better knowing he wasn't on his own.

The sun was blindingly light as he stepped off the train, and Finn covered his eyes with his arm. The station was buzzing, and Finn wasn't really sure where he was meant to go. Oliver marched off in one direction, grunting some sort of 'follow me' in his weird accent, and the rest of the group shrugged and followed. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, anyway.

"First years! First years over here please!" A plump man called. Finn figured Oliver had heard it as soon as he'd gotten off the train. The plump man's face was round and kind, and he was dressed in a muggle-looking jumper and trousers. Finn was surprised the man was even a wizard.

Finn noticed the boy he'd cursed nearby him, and tried his best to hide behind Gracie and Louie. He had his friend near him, and she was searching out at the crowd accusingly. Fortunately, she saw right past him.

"You lot. With me, please." A voice split through the air behind them, and all four of them turned. He was tall, with brown curly hair and looked particularly angry. Finn had seen men like him before back home, and felt significantly more certain. He knew how dark wizards worked.

The five followed the man to a carriage. It was bigger than the other carriages, and pulled by thestrals. Seren looked over at Finn eagerly, and they knew they were both thinking the same thing. Thestral hair sold for crazy amounts.

"Don't even try." The stern voice said before Seren and Finn could even say _Diffindo._ The man looked like he didn't have any tolerance for arguing, and Finn didn't have any idea what sort of curses the man could cast, so he pulled Seren's slimy hand towards the carriage. Her hand slid out of his instantly, but she seemed to get the message, and the two climbed aboard.

The carriage was packed, and Finn couldn't even see where the seats were meant to be. There was at least twenty kids piled into the thing. He heard the man outside complain that they needed another carriage, and Finn definitely agreed. He was almost sitting on Oliver's lap.

The other people in the carriage were dressed like him, and Finn knew the reason they'd been separated from the other first years almost immediately. The only people not dressed in ragged robes or not in uniform at all were vampires; the robes they wore were silken or velvet, and they seemed to be trying very hard to keep themselves as far away from everyone else as possible. Not with a lot of success, Finn snickered to himself. A particularly grubby boy even wiped his hands on one, and the vampire let out a hiss. He wondered how they'd managed to survive in the daylight for this long, but then another batch of students tried to force their way in.

"There's no more bloody room. Can't they see that?" He heard Gracie say from somewhere behind him. It was a pack of werewolves, and he heard Oliver growl. The new kids growled back, slotting themselves into any of the remaining space. Finn really hoped they didn't choose now to fight; there really wasn't enough space. "Oh knock it off. Wait until we're out of this cage you mangy animals." Gracie said again. Finn was pretty impressed, because there was no way he'd ever talk to werewolves as brazenly, but they did seem to back down a little. He guessed even their animal brains could tell that wouldn't end well for any of them.

Something forced the mass of kids against the edge of the carriage, and Finn caught a glimpse of the chair as the air was pushed out of his lungs. A loud grumble was heard all around him, and he guessed someone had cast a spell to push them all closer together. He was face to face with a werewolf girl, and her breath really stank. Oliver seemed to risk another growling session, and the girl happily growled right back. Finn could feel their spittle.

"See, we can fit at least another twenty odd students in here." The tall man from earlier gestured, and the chubby man didn't look too convinced. "Unless you want them travelling with the other first years?" The chubby man seemed to agree that wasn't a good idea, looking into the over-crowded carriage.

"You're sure there aren't any spares?" He asked, and Finn was thankful at least someone saw how inhumane this was. He couldn't move any of his body, and was struggling to make out what the men were saying over the growling.

"These _are_ the spares, Neville." A few more students were packed into the new space created. He wasn't even sure what they were, but a gaggle of them looked to be part goblin. That was a relief. Goblins were pretty small. "It's the minister's fault for introducing this new rule. This year has _twice_ the amount of students as the largest year in all the history of Hogwarts! We're just not equipped for this sort of thing."

"She gave us three years to prepare," the man, Neville, said hesitantly. Finn could tell he didn't entirely disagree with the other man, as he looked into the over-crowded carriage. "Why didn't we buy a few more?" The conversation was cut off for Finn as the girl in front of his dived to bite Oliver's ear off. Oliver flew forwards at the same moment, and Finn shrunk his head down to get out of the crossfire. Finn couldn't see anything now, and he was pretty sure he was going to suffocate in a sea of bodies.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, _cut it out!"_ He heard Gracie yell, though he couldn't really tell which direction it was coming from. "Make the rest of them _walk_. I thought wizards were meant to be smart." Gracie said to the teachers outside. Finn couldn't hear the response, but he was pretty sure they agreed, since the carriage began to move.

Trapped in the darkness as he was, Finn started to think of how exactly he was going to get the thestral hair. He could probably ask Oliver to help, werewolf claws had been pretty effective last time.


End file.
